Mahamongkol Meditation Centre, Thailand

Just before Christmas when we were in west Thailand, I had a bit of Harry Potter moment whilst visiting a Buddhist Temple/ Meditation Centre. Perhaps it’s bad taste to compare a spiritual site to Harry Potter, but being there made me feel like I really had ventured into the magical world.

After a 2 hour journey from Kanchanaburi to Mahamongkol, I stepped off the train and turned left, unsure where I was going. I asked a Thai woman where the Meditation Centre was and she directed me across a beautiful wooden planked bridge going over the River Kwai. All I could see ahead of me were thick trees and layers of tall faded mountains against a brilliant blue sky.

At the other side, the bridge turned into a sloped footpath and once I passed through the trees, I came to a pretty open plan building with a smooth marble floor and shelves containing different sized, neatly folded white robes.

I asked if it would be possible to spend one night at the centre, and seconds later a Thai woman dressed in white pulled out a tape measure and began measuring me for my new robes. Once suitably dressed, I felt like I was wearing a cross between luxury pyjamas and a white version of Hogwarts robes. The clothes were so light and floaty, I felt like I was wearing Harry’s Invisibility Cloak.

Someone then handed me a thick gold and white book containing words of wisdom from Buddha translated from Pali language to English. In return, I had to hand over all my non-essential material possessions and then choose a place to sleep. Everyone slept under one roof on blankets, mats and cushions in a beautiful, minimalist but ornate, high ceilinged hall with huge white pillars and no front wall.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I was free to meditate and wander the grounds; a Thai girl called Izabella who had been staying at the centre for 2 weeks kindly gave me a tour. The grounds of the place were pretty incredible, stretching out for acres. We walked bare foot over soft golf course like grass, passing decking areas for meditation by the river and beautifully sculpted Buddha statues and shrines inside buildings made from wood, marble and cream coloured stone.

Close to the middle of the site was a small manmade, perfectly round grassy hill, like a sunken green globe, with a tree on the top. Izabella explained, “The tree is special and from India. You can walk around it and pray for something.” I watched as a man walked slowly around and settled by it to meditate.

Later that evening, everyone at the centre meditated together outside on the grass as the sun was setting. Just before I closed my eyes, I could see a golden glowing castle of a temple surrounded by trees on top of one of the surrounding mountains. My first thought was, ‘It looks just like Hogwarts.’

Afterwards, Izabella suggested, “Tomorrow we can visit the temple if you like,” I stupidly asked, “Is it possible?” The mountain looked so steep and the temple miles away, but there were a total of almost 2000 steps leading up in a zig-zag through the mountain to the entrance. Intrigued, I said, “Yes, I’d love to see it.”

The following day, we took the atmospheric 1 hour trek up to the temple entrance. As we got closer, the steps weaved around a gorgeous 3 tiered staggered pond filled with lotus flowers and lily pads and below in the far distance, the smooth line of the river curved gracefully around the green topped meditation centre buildings.  When I looked up, there were hundreds of monkeys swinging from tree to tree.

I was a little overwhelmed by how stunningly beautiful this place was, and despite it being free to wander the grounds and temple, I was surprised to see no other tourists. Izabella mentioned that it was probably because you weren’t allowed to take photos.

After my 24 hours were up, I sat on one of the benches by Mongkol train stop only minutes away from where I’d just been staying. Shortly after, a small group of people and their guide sat on the remaining benches. The guide was pointing towards the direction of the meditation centre and said, “… and this is where the nuns live.”

About 20 metres away from us, 2 Thai women dressed in white were doing some gardening by the bridge. The guide continued to say that the nuns lived in the nunnery for years, if not for the rest of their lives. One of the tourists looked in the direction of the meditation centre, laughed and said pityingly, “Poor, poor nuns.”

In reality, most people only stay at the centre for about 2 weeks- 1 month and for me, the site was one of the most beautiful places I’d visited in Thailand. Perhaps I should have said something, but instead I found myself thinking, “They’re muggles; they’re not supposed to know.”

Mahamongkol Meditation Centre- To visit the centre for 1 day, white robes are given free of a charge, but robes must be bought for a small fee if staying overnight. Meals and accommodation are provided free of charge and in return, everyone staying at the centre does an hour or so of work each day to maintain the grounds. The food is excellent.

Tags: Buddhism, Buddhist Monastery, Kanchanaburi, Mahamongkol, Meditation, South East Asia, Temples, Thailand, Travel

Living Things from South East Asia

Tags: Animals, Cambodia, Dogs, Laos, Photography, South East Asia, Thailand, Travel, Vietnam

Cycling around Kep

After a “I hear Kep is supposed to be nice” comment from  fellow traveller Raf, we were on a bus to the little coastal town, not far from Kampot in Cambodia (where loads of pepper is grown).

Once we arrived we secured a bamboo hut on the hill side (they were pretty comfortable, though electricity only came on from about 5pm), with a beautiful view of the bay. We rented a couple of bikes and along with our friend Raf we scouted out the local area.

Kep, once a popular resort area until the Khmer Rouge came along and forced everyone out, it now had an air of abandonment; but not it a trashy way, just reclaimed by nature and time. The old fancy broad-walks along the coast, now cracked and grown over in some places, coastal homes lay gutted. Though next to all this decay there were also a few wonderful local restaurants and newer resorts (like our own).

We stopped to try the local crab (which the area is known for), and did not regret it. We ate peppered crab with pepper from down the road and crab not more that 30M from where we sat and ate on the shore.

The next day, feeling energetic we set off with our bicycles once more in an attempt to find more old abandoned houses whilst we circled the hill which a part of Kep sat on. We cycled for miles through the most beautiful countryside. Passing locals retrieving mud from the river (not sure either…) and field after field of rice. Stopping here and there to say hello to the local children of picking up playing cards (once again not sure either… ask Clare). As we doubled back to round the other side of the hill, we happened upon a mosque almost in the middle of nowhere. It looked pretty incredible against the swirling skies of an ominous looking storm.

 

2 Minutes up the road we ploughed into the nearest restaurant/cafe/shop/thingy at the side of the road, rain just on our heels. As we propped our bikes up and ran under the tarp that was the front of the shop thing, the heavens opened. I know! I know! Its a massive cliché, but there really was no other way to describe it. SO MUCH WATER FROM SKY! We sat and ate some chewy fried things and nibbled on some hard cinnamon baked things whilst we waited, watching the road become a river.

After a surprisingly short time the rains just stopped and on we went.

We cycled only a short distance and discovered an amazingly blackened building in the middle of a luscious green field of rice. We all stopped to take pictures and after a minute we realised how quiet and peaceful it was around there. Well, not entirely.

“What’s that sound?” Raf asked.

“What sound?” I replied

“That sorta whooshing rushing sound? Sounds like TV Static? Oh my god is that rain?!”

“Shit, CLARE RAINS COMING, Run!”

We grabbed our bikes and peddled as fast as we could in the direction of the nearest building, which happened to be a farm house with a pig-sty next to it. Not seeing anyone in the house we ran for the iron lean-to that was the sty. And then the rain fell, heavy as before, soaking Clare to the bone as she was a little way behind us (she had gone up to explore the building).

Eventually the rain slowed enough (the owners of the farm house had seen us standing in the sty) and we we’re invited into the farm house. It was an incredibly humble home, with dirt floors wooden beds with no mattress only mats and a barrel in a back room for washing. We spent quite some time in there, waiting for the rain, in the warmth of the simple home. We made the time pass by trying to bridge the language barrier; playing with the children  (Clare teaching them yoga and getting them to play ‘Simon Says’ which was more like ‘Copy Clare’), drawing pictures in a little note book, teaching the kids to count in English and showing photos from our camera’s. I don’t think I have felt that welcomed by strangers in a long time, though there was no common language and we had nothing to give to them in the way of thanks, we really did feel so welcomed.

Eventually the rain let up and we left, waving and shouting “Ar Kun” (thank you). After a short ride we finished the circle, to climb the guest houses hill once more, arriving exhausted and sweaty.

Tags: Cambodia, crab, Cycling, kep, locals, mosques, Rain, rice farms, Travel

Angkor Wat, Cambodia

Tags: Angkor Wat, Cambodia, Photography, Siem Reap, South East Asia, Sunset, Temples, Travel

The Killing Fields, Phnom Penh, Cambodia

"Better to kill an innocent by mistake than spare an enemy by mistake." Pol Pot

A few days ago, we visited the Killing Fields just outside of Phnom Penh, Cambodia. The site was one of many throughout the country where millions of people were brutally executed by the Khmer Rouge during the years 1976-1979 when Pol Pot was in power.

The Khmer Rouge had a vision of everyone living in the countryside, working on the land, farming and doing other physically demanding jobs. Those opposed to this were killed, including teachers, doctors, children, and even members of Pol Pots own family.

When we arrived at the Killing Fields, I was surprised by how calm and peaceful the place was; birds were singing; there was a gentle breeze in the air and leaves rustled in the trees dotted about on the dappled sunlit lawns. Until I turned my audio guide on, it would have been difficult at first glance to imagine the horror that took place just over 3 decades ago.

As I walked slowly around the grounds, listening intently to information, case studies and music, my attention was directed to physical reminders of the Khmer Rouge’s sickening regime, including bones, teeth and clothes worn by those who were killed. Even today, remnants from the past still find their way unsettlingly to the surface of the pits where thousands of bodies were once thrown into.

30 minutes into the tour, I stood next to a tree which was used as a base to smash babies and children’s heads, and the razor sharp edges of thick palm leaves were used to cut throats. Quite often whole families would be wiped out as the Khmer Rouge grew increasingly paranoid. Towards the end of the tour I listened to the music that was used to hide the screams of those being killed. It brought tears to my eyes as I tried to imagine the fear people must have felt.

Afterwards, whilst looking around the on-site Museum I discovered that Pol Pot was once a geography teacher and many other members of the Khmer Rouge were also once teachers or lecturers. I wondered when the opinions of these individuals started to change and I left wanting to know exactly what influenced the Khmer Rouge to form their extreme vision for Cambodia, why they believed it to be the way forward and how such a minority managed to inflict such suffering on their own people.

Tags: Cambodia, Khmer Rouge, Phnom Penh, Pol Pot, South East Asia, The Killing Fields, Travel

The Vietnamese Coast and The Sand Dunes of Mui Ne

Tags: Beaches, Mui Ne, Sand Dunes, South East Asia, Travel, Vietnam, Vietnam Coast

Mue Ni and the Sand Dunes

Arriving in monsoon rain at Mue Ni beach, we walked the 3km in the rain and with the absence of a real umbrella or any kind of water-proof we fell into our room thoroughly soaked.

The next day was a different story, though it was not completely clear, it was warm and more importantly, not raining by the barrel full. We booked a Jeep tour of the nearby sand dunes for $8. This would be our first tour experience since we started backpacking. Our tour began at 2pm so we had a few hours to spend bobbing up and down in the waves (which was quite fun and we also bumped into the other people that would be joining the tour)

Hopping in an old white Chinese 4×4 we raced off towards the dunes with the 4 other people +driver, stopping along the way at a local fishing port (which stunk, but strangely not as much as the roads leading out of the village, mainly due to the two lanes of drying fish on either side of the road).

After longer than we thought and further in land than I would have guessed, we arrived at the white sand dunes. Sadly the 4×4 seemed purely for show and couldn’t be taken on the dunes (which made the ‘guide’ with his added lack of English, more of a driver than anything else).
We hired two sheets of plastic for 30,000 Dong each (£1, sneaky) and made our way up one of the steeper looking dunes. The incredible thing about the place was its surroundings. In one direction you looked and saw miles of desert dunes, look to your left and you would see a large lake with green plants growing on top, to the right fir type trees on sandy and grassy hills.

We decided to use our bit of plastics to sand sledge down the hill, after a few failed attempts we got quite some speed up. The only problem was steering and breaking. Steering was impossible, and breaking involved falling off sideways and rolling a bit. Clare decided to try it from one of the highest points and got up some amazing speed (video to come). I decided to try it with an air of cockiness (“That looks like fun, I’m SURE I could do that” I thought). I went about 40 meters, hit top speed, one foot went to the ground the other in-between the rope attached to the plastic sledge and then I was in the dune. Hair lolling around in the sand, grit in my teeth and in my shorts.

After spending around 1 hour 1/2 of our allocated 40 minutes we returned late to the 4×4 (people waiting unhappily for us, sorry!). The rest of the tour consisted of a dune of red sand that was covered in locals/tourists/litter and the incredible “fairy spring” (hums a tune from Zelda).

The fairy spring is a small river running to the sea, but its only about 2 inches deep but around 7ft wide, which makes you feel as if you are walking on water up stream. Its also surrounded by cliffs of red sand and calcium deposits, giving it a very ‘other world’ feel. We were also follow by a couple of children (one in his late teens) which tried to act as our guide (much to our annoyance “NO we WANT to go in the deeper water, I’m wearing swimming shorts!”) and then tried to ask us for money once we had started our way back (the younger of the two’s face turned from smiles to ‘poor me’)